Redemption
by Noc007
Summary: For not killing Dumbledore, Draco is given another mission. He is to kill Hermione Granger in the worst way possible.
1. z e r o

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_"We are each our own devil, and we make this world our hell."_  
- Oscar Wilde

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_"Evil, when we are in its power, is not felt as evil, but as a necessity, even a duty."_  
- Simone Weil

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_"...Monsters are real, and ghosts are real too. They live inside us, and sometimes, they win."_  
- Stephen King


	2. p a r t 1

**Author's Note:  
**_{August 30 2011 - I'm re-editing this story. This chapter has been previously beta'd by 'The Scratch Man'}_

First of all, this story will not be fluffy as you can assume by the summary and warnings I've given. Originally, this story was created as a way to improve my description when it came to writing out a scene(s), so that's what you're going to be seeing/reading here. Due to its length, I've decided to cut this one-shot into two parts - the last one being the conclusion of the story. Last but not least, this story is an AU fic. So, if you don't like, well... :)

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**Part 1.**

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This was the day; the day in which he'll redeem himself in the eyes of Lord Voldemort and everyone else.

Was the only way he can prove to his Lord -and everyone else for that matter- that he can be a committed member. Since he had failed miserably in killing Dumbledore, there was no reason for them to spare his life. After all, it was the only way to prove to everyone that he was worthy enough to be a Death Eater. Since his father was in Azkaban, and not an interest to Voldemort, there was no way he could have a say in Draco's life. But then Snape stepped in, suggested that there's _another _option that could either condemn Draco to death or live amongst them.

He should mercilessly kill someone, someone that is of value. That he would not know the victim beforehand.

The idea was interesting, but their Lord had suggested for the killing to be of value, he will need to kill the person without the use of his wand. By that, he will not be allowed to use spells that can either cause pain or death. If he really is interested in his own life, he should prove it by killing the person in the worst way possible. Those were the rules; rules that Draco had found to be quite simple. What it didn't occur to him was: How would it be possible to kill someone without the use of a wand?

He would eventually find out as he was now being led down a dim hall.

_This is a test, that's all. Just a fucking test, nothing big…_ Draco kept repeating to himself as he followed the short, stout man down the hall.

It hadn't even been a week since he had failed so miserably and he would soon be partaking in the murd –no –_killing _of another person –one he didn't know. Naturally, that should make the task much easier; it was only common sense that if you didn't know the person, it would be easier to harm them than it would be to harm someone you did know.

"How long do we have to go?"

The man who had spoken had not revealed his name to Draco, but the latter had seen him around before; those who surrounded him informed Draco that the man was an important individual to Lord Voldemort. That only meant the man had done something of worth for Voldemort to deem him important. There weren't many people who were close to Voldermort –much less have Voldemort personally declare them important. The husky man who now led him happened to be such a person, though. It was confounding, but Draco knew that if someone was of importance, their appearance would show it.

This man clearly proved otherwise.

"We're here…" the man said, as he turned to look at Draco.

He returned the stare before he turned to the wooden door that stood closed in front of him. Clearing his throat, he said "How… I mea-"

"Lord Voldemort has instructed you; I'm quite sure it won't be a hard kill." The man told him with a soft chuckle. "After all, she's wandless… if that's what concerns you."

_She…_?

With his silver arm, the man pushed aside the door, revealing another darkened room. "Now if you will follow me inside…"

Draco stepped after him, questioning himself as to why the man did not turn on a light source. _They _didn't actually expect him to kill someone blindly, did they?

"Oh yes," the man started, "You may use the wand, but any spell that comes out of it will be checked afterwards."

_Like that would help…_ Draco thought as he walked forward blindly.

A few seconds later, the whole room was suddenly illuminated, causing Draco to shield his eyes from the bright light. It wasn't even a second later when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Glancing at it, he knew that it belonged to the man –one who had suddenly appeared beside Draco to try to catch his attention; he succeeded in doing so. The man was looking toward the front, his eyes round with interest. With a single motion of his head, he signaled Draco to look as well.

Slouching against the wall was the unconscious _Hermione Granger_. Her unmistakable, chestnut colored hair barely covered her face as her chin rested on her chest. She wore a black pair of slacks, along with a white jumper; they were Muggle clothes, and this could only mean that she had been in Hogsmeade or somewhere away from Hogwarts before she had gotten caught.

Hermione's wrists, bound with rope, rested on her lap; her legs were outstretched, indicating that someone had set her down carefully –as if for her to appear as if she suddenly decided to sleep on the spot.

"One last thing…" the man started, pulling out a sleek, curved knife from underneath his coat. The handle, though black, appear to glow from within; its silver blade did not have the appearance of being used before, something that he found interesting. "…You are able to use this; because even though your fists will be of good use, they will not be enough to cause her _extreme_ harm."

Draco took the knife into his own hand, before placing it underneath his own coat. "Is there something else I should know?"

"There's nothing else for everything has been said," the man replied as he began walking past Draco. "I'll be down the hall; since my Lord would be busy, I am to report him directly when you accomplish this task." He voiced.

Just as the man was walking away, Draco whirled around to face the departing man. "What did you do?"

The man stopped, before looking over his shoulder. "Just do what you need to do. We can speak about my story later..." Without another word, he continued his way before disappearing to the other side of the wooden door.

As Draco stared at the closed door, a barely-silent groan was coming from behind him. Turning around on his heels, he turned to look upon the awakening girl.

He watched as she rolled her head to the side, her eyebrows furrowing as if a headache was the source of her awakening. Another groan slipped through her lips, as she shook her head. Her eyes opened slowly, and they looked down into her lap. It was then that shenoticed her hands were bound together, for she raised them to eye level. It was then that she let out a small gasp.

"Good evening, Granger" He greeted her as he stepped into her view.

She quickly dropped her hands on her lap, as her eyes widen with what he could only be described with fear. "Where am I? Why do you have me here?"

He smirked as he stepped closer; this caused Hermione to quickly pull her legs up to her chest. Placing her hands in front of her as if they were to protect her, she said, "Don't step any closer, Malfoy!'

He stopped, but knelt down to face her. "I have something that needs to be done, and lucky for you, you're part of it."

"I'm not doing anything for you, Malfoy." She growled, "You cannot keep me here for long; they will be looking for me if I don't meet up with my fri-"

"Quiet."

She didn't listen, but spoke again, taking a different tone: "Let me go, Malfoy. You do no-"

Without another word from him, he quickly stood up, pulling Hermione with him. He held her by the white of her jumper; his clutch on her frightened her and she quickly quieted down. He lowered his face near to hers, "When I tell you to quiet, you better listen."

She winced as each word was said, "Look, please… just le-" she suddenly gasped as the wall behind her crushed into her back. He had his arm pressed across her chest forcefully, as his eyes glared right into hers. "What the fuck did I say about being quiet?" He screamed at her.

He could see her wincing every time that he worded each word. His request had been simple –now he was just growing annoyed at her.

Draco could feel her shaking with what could only be described as fear. He let out an audible sigh as he looked down at his feet.

"It's been two weeks since I've disappeared –since I failed to kill that old man. I've heard what has happened since then I stayed in my room; I was afraid that Lord Voldemort would kill me and my mother. But now I'm here –here to redeem myself, Granger…"

He looked up at her again and saw that her breath had slowed down; she was being attentive to what he was saying –she was actually _listening _to him. Of all the people he knew, of all those that he remotely cared for, no one had actually listened to him the way she was doing now. The way she was looking at him couldn't be defined, but it was apparent that something was going through her head –perhaps something along the lines of '_Draco Malfoy is _actually _opening up to me?'_

That thought displeased him greatly.

"Say something."

Hermione's voice must have been caught in her throat because her response was a mere squeak.

"First you couldn't keep quiet, now you can't speak?" he said in a nonchalant manner.

"Why am I here?" she finally uttered.

"To be killed of course, plain and simple."

Her face went blank, and he knew that it was finally time to put his words into action. With his free arm, Draco pulled out the knife that was given to him and pressed it against her side. Hermione's eyes widened. "Believe me, I'm not kidding." He whispered.

Her doe-like eyes where no longer glittering with the happiness he despised her having. Her small lips, fully formed, where slightly opened and her breath was coming out in short gasps. Her cheeks were flushed, giving them a rosy color that seem out of place. Her nostrils flared as she tried to take in the necessary amount of air. Draco's eyes trailed slowly down her neck, which disappeared right under the jumper she was wearing. Then a thought occurred to him: _She was always so proud, bloody fuck, she used to act as if she were above us all when it came to books. Let see how she'll act if her dignity is stripped away from her. _

"Take off your jumper and shirt off." He stated simply, as he pushed himself away from her. This caused her to groan as her back was pressed painfully against the wall.

"No."

"I'm warning you, mudblood… just do wh-"

"Call me what you will, but I will ne-"

He pulled out the knife, "Do not make this harder on yourself; all you need to do is follow what I say."

She didn't flinch, but kept staring him straight on. "Trying to intimidate me, are you Malfoy?"

"You are quite cheeky to be saying that, you filthy mudblood."

"You couldn't kill Dumbledore; you're too afraid to appear in broad daylight, afraid that Voldemort will come after yourself. You do not have it in you; you couldn't do it then, and you can't do it now."

Draco couldn't believe that he was hearing. How could she say what she was saying when he was the one with the upper hand? How could he be letting her mouth him off? Why isn't he _doing _something? Why was he standing like a bloody idiot? _She can't be right,_ He thought as he stepped closer.

"You're right; I was afraid of killing him. But this is different –different in the sense that I actually _despise _you with such passion…" he whispered as he stared at her. "Because if I didn't, then I won't be able to do this."

He placed the tip of the knife against her cheek, slowly pushing it in as Hermione winced. She shook her head, but the movement only caused Draco to inflict a superficial wound upon her. The thin line turned pink; its color was soft, but it soon grew to a deeper hue as a small droplet pushed its way into the surface.

Draco was in awe with what he just done; it had been something so simple and easy that he was surprised. He had merely placed the tip of the knife against her skin, and she had done the rest. He had felt the soft of the knife against her cheek, and it was only that small push that caused her to bleed. It was nothing extraordinary by sight, but the _power _he had as he caused it was amazing to him.

"That didn't hurt, did it?" he asked, still observing the small cut on her cheek.

"Don't hurt me, please…" she started, her voice now trembling.

He had instilled fear in her; he was progressing.

With his free hand, he forced her to face him. "You didn't believe me and you still don't. But I'll show you, _Granger._"

Turning her head to the side, he exposed her other, unharmed cheek. Raising the knife, Draco placed the tip against it. Slowly, he pressed into her flesh. The skin was resisting, but he kept on pushing. She whimpered. His fingers dug into her chin, as he continued pressing the tip of the blade into her cheek. It was taking too long; the only sign that he was causing _any _harm was the sight of the pressure. He pressed the edge of the knife against her skin instead, and slowly trailed it down her jaw. He saw the hint of blood and he smirked.

Hermione screamed before she pushed him with all her might away. He stumbled backwards, nearly tripping with his own feet before he steadied himself. By the time he realized what happened, she was nearing the door. Her bound hands were outstretching towards it, as if they would magically pull the doorknob towards her.

_No! _He shouted to himself, as he took after her.

The room wasn't small or large, so even with her bound wrists, the filthy bitch might manage to escape, which would humiliate Draco to no end. That wouldn't be happening; no, not on this forsaken planet! Draco wasn't going to allow a filthy Mudblood get the best of him. He had been caught off guard; he had been so engrossed in cutting her ugly face that he hadn't been aware of his surroundings. _Yes, that's what happened. _

Draco caught Hermione by the shoulder, and pushed her forcefully to the side. She missed her footing, and went crashing down. Her fingers stretched out as the jolt of hitting the pavement ran up her spine. He could hear her breath coming in short gasps as he stood over her. She closed her eyes and turned away from seeing him.

"Please…" he barely heard her whisper. He stepped around her body, as to make sure that she won't use her legs against him. "Just… let me go; I won't tell anyone… _please…_"

He wondered as to the reason why he wasn't allowed to use his wand for a quick kill; with an utter of a spell, he would have finished her a while ago. This was a test; a test of will, he was facing the only thing that _could _derail him from accomplishing this. He was meant to see someone suffer, suffer by his own hands. Killing her with a curse will not be protested, his thoughts will not be bothered. Having her here, alive and pleading for her life was the one thing he needed to fight against. Whatever humanity Draco had within would need to be vanquished if he ever wanted to stay alive.

Hermione was staring up at him, her eyes now glazed with tears. Her blood smeared her face and her legs were pulled into her. She believed he would harm her –he could see in her eyes.. He scoffed under his breath as he turned away.

This was the first time he was aware of the contents of the room. It was a filthy place; cobwebs in the corner, and dust covering the surface of the furniture. Two wooden chairs, one with a missing leg, were against a wall. A counter with a sink was across from it; an old rusty bucket sat within it. There were only two windows, one partially broken and the other covered in grime. He looked up to the ceiling and saw the source of the bright light. He couldn't stare at it for too long, so he didn't know what exactly it was.

Draco turned around to face her.

"You should have done what I said, but you just couldn't keep you filthy trap shut." he growled as he picked her up forcefully by the rope that held her wrists together.

She cried out in pain.

Draco looked down at her hands and saw that the rope was digging into her flesh; he pulled at it again, and Hermione gasped.

He smiled, an idea occurring to him; "If a part of you is injured, there's not a lot that can be done for the wound, is there?" He asked her. She looked up at him and Draco stabbed her left hand with his dagger.

Hermione screamed, but her cries were lost to him as he concentrated on the feeling of the knife slicing through her flesh, all the while pushing the blade deeper into her hand.

It was an odd feeling –a knife cutting through flesh. He couldn't quite describe it.

Draco was purposely taking his time. After all, the purpose of the entire task was to teach him something. By the time he stopped pushing the knife, blood was already running down her long, slender fingers, dripping off the tips.

Her wails had suddenly broken through his thoughts, and he looked up slowly to see her distressed expression. Her tears were leaving wet streaks across her face as they rolled down her cheeks.

Hermione was pulling her hands away from him, even while having the knife still buried deep into one of them. The blade hadn't even gone straight through, but he could tell by the outline of the blood smeared against the silver, that it was nearing to the other side.

Hermione let out one last cry as Draco finally pulled the entire blade out of her hand. He watched silently as she looked down at her injured hand.

Her mouth hung open as she gasped with pain, and her injured hand was trembling against her chest, all the while smearing crimson blood on her white jumper.

"I must say, that was nothing like slicing bread. Flesh doesn't give a knife any of that _ease_ when you cut through it." Draco told her, and her eyes snapped up to look at him, lips trembling. She didn't speak; her eyes spoke for her; they spoke of her hatred toward him and the suffering she had endured at his hands.

Rolling his eyes, Draco stepped towards her, but she stepped back. He reached over to her wrists, and pulled her towards him. "Just do what I say and nothing worse will happen to you," He ordered through gritted teeth.

He took the blood stained knife, and sliced through the rope that bound them together, and she quickly pulled herself against the wall with her bloody hand still pressed against her. Hermione's hair, now in disarray, fell into her face but she didn't bother to push it aside.

"YOU MONSTER, YOU BLOODY BASTARD!" she cried at him as a fresh batch of tears sprung to her eyes.

He looked down at the knife, feigning interest in it. "Be careful with what you say, Granger. Because…" He looked at her with a smirk, "We aren't finished yet."

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_Review? If not, thank you for getting this far :)_


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